Forgotten Portraits

She listens to the wind gently hush about the corridor, kissing the young girl’s alabaster cheek as she floats like a free bird through the corridor of some mansion along the coast of  frigid Maine. She sighed, looking at old, forgotten portraits. There is a new portrait. Her mother’s blue eyes are a pool of deep, oceanic blue. Tears of sadness seem to be forming from her beautiful, sorrowful, intensely painful eyes. It was the only way she could remember her past. She smiles as she thinks of her mother, probably sleeping somewhere upstairs. She misses her mother dearly, though her memory is leaving her slowly. Death can do that. She floats through the wall separating her and her mother. Sees her mother sleeping contentedly like a beautiful newborn baby. Her heart gushes with a wave of complete ecstasy. It all comes crashing down when, in an instant, she sees another child resting close beside her. A little boy, wrapping his arms around his mother, seeking protection from closet monsters. The girl, looking over them, wails in pain. Replaced. Forgotten. She feels her soul slowly leave the mansion as the mother seems to wave to her dead child in her sleep. Gone. Never to be seen again.